


Sleeping Habits

by soggycardboardbox



Series: Devil Protocreed [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed, Devil May Cry, Prototype (Video Game)
Genre: Bickering, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggycardboardbox/pseuds/soggycardboardbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a bed with two other grown men is difficult. Especially when both are over-sized, super-powered five-year-olds at heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Habits

Sleeping has become the equivalent of an Olympic sport. Fitting three grown men (or rather, two men and one overzealous, demon hunting teen, as Alex likes to point out) into one bed is a fight to the finish. Alex, though he is loath to admit it, cuddles in his sleep. He tends to latch onto the closet victim and ensnare them in his grasp, with or without the creepy black tendrils. Desmond chalks it up to his lack of human contact after his infection. Alex ends up holding Dante out the window of their apartment whenever the teen laughs at him about it (not that the drop would do much harm to the boy anyway). Dante, much like his conscious self, is a chaotic tornado. Sometimes he needs space, sometimes he burrows close, most of the time he falls out of the bed from all his twisting, turning and shoving (he swears it’s Alex’s fault but neither of the others have actually caught the virus in the act yet). Desmond is the happy medium and normally takes the middle spot, to separate the two extremes. But sometimes he wakes up at night, screaming and thrashing over phantom losses, images of Ezio’s brothers or Altair’s family flashing through his head as the Bleeding Effect runs its course. On nights like those gentle kisses and murmured comforts flows from either side of the bed, to sooth the young assassin back into peaceful sleep. And in the morning they always awake to find themselves all entangled, unable to discern which limb belongs to whom and whose hand has found its way where.


End file.
